The writing on the wall
by elenilote
Summary: Where Derek has communication issues.


Derek had gone awol. For the third day in a row he was nowhere to be found. Not that he'd admit to it but it was driving Stiles insane with worry and fear. Not because he was scared of Derek getting hurt - that seemed to happen on a daily basis anyway - but because the only reasoning he could come up with for the werewolf's absence was that he was up to something he did not want the pack to know. Something dangerous. Possibly lethal, for the other guy - Stiles had seen at first hand the damage Derek could inflict when on full alpha mode and it wasn't pretty – and that in turn would probably lead to more problems for everyone...

He'd been out looking for Derek again with Scott, and Isaac who couldn't be separated from him anyway even if one tried. But even with the two werewolves to help, Stiles had found no trace of Derek, nothing, not as much as a footprint or a sniff of his scent. The pack was a mess of fear and confusion and uncertainty, what would happen to them if Derek didn't come back? Would some other alpha claim them? Would they have to leave and find a new pack?

_That_ discussion hadn't gone too well, Isaac in particular had become so agitated at the mere thought of finding a new pack that with a hasty apology Scott had dragged him away and left Stiles to make his own way home. He'd considered camping out at the ruined house until Derek returned but that then would drive his father insane with worry, so home it was.

The house was dark when Stiles arrived, a note on the fridge door told him that his father had been called to investigate a fire and probably wouldn't be back before the morning. Stiles sighed, he worried about his dad, he worked too much and didn't have nearly enough time off and well, with all the werewolf-related trouble for the last few months Stiles had had to keep too many secrets from his father and it weighed on him. Grabbing a Coke from the fridge, he debated for a moment whether he could be bothered to load the Xbox but decided against it, best to just have a shower and go to bed, he had too much on his mind anyway to be able to concentrate on a game.

Too much, and _all_ of it regarding a certain grumpy werewolf.

They had only recently started, tentatively, sort-of-dating. Not the kind of dating that Scott and Isaac did, going to the movies and walking hand-in-hand in the park and being generally sickeningly cute. No, dating Derek meant getting slammed against the wall and kissed until he couldn't see straight, making out on the worn-out old sofa that was the only usable piece of furniture in the burned-out house Derek insisted living in, and the rest of the time spent running around fighting alphas and kanimas and god-knows-what, oh and avoiding getting killed by hunters, that too. Which wasn't exactly what Stiles had imagined it would be like when he'd finally picked up his courage and told Derek how he felt. Derek on the other hand didn't talk about his feelings – or about anything personal – much at all, despite Stiles's best efforts. So it left Stiles uncertain of what exactly they had, if this sudden disappearance meant that Derek didn't want him anymore?

Stiles flicked the light switch in his room, frowning at the open window; surely he'd closed it earlier? And screamed, part surprised part scared out of his skin at what he saw.

On the wall above his bed was scrawled, with what Stiles hoped was paint but probably wasn't, in six-inch letters and wonky handwriting the following:

"you drive me crazy. I never want you to leave."

Stiles stood in the doorway, reading Derek's message over and over – surely it was Derek, it could be no one else - and trying to make sense of it.

_You drive me crazy_

Well, that went both ways, Stiles thought to himself. He certainly was crazy about Derek, but hadn't been sure about Derek's feelings. Until now.

It was a little creepy, having what surely was Derek's idea of "I love you" written in blood on your bedroom wall but then again, also kinda cool too. That someone would go to such lengths to tell him that, something to be a little flattered over, surely?

But he'd better try and clean it up before his dad got in, or he would have a hell of a lot of explaining to do. But at least Derek was back it seemed. Stiles glanced at the open window again, this time taking note of the unnatural quiet - no birds or crickets or anything. _I see._

"You could have just left a note you know, like _normal_ people. Or is this some weird werewolf mating ritual thing I don't know about, wooing your prospective boyfriend with messages written on your own blood, at least, I hope it's your own and not someone else's cause that wouldn't be romantic any more but creepy. In any case, consider me wooed, now will you come in and actually talk to me?"

Derek had the decency to look a little guilty at least, Stiles noted with satisfaction, as he climbed in the window. He looked ragged, like he hadn't slept in a week but his eyes were their normal colour and not alpha-red so that was good.

"I'm not good with words. But I do like you, a lot, and...and well, I wanted to get your attention..."

Stiles grinned, a mad, heady feeling washing over him.

"Yeah well I like you a whole lot too, in case you haven't noticed. And you_ definitely_ got my attention. So can we just skip the awkward small talk and jump straight to the part where you kiss me? Cause I'm thinking kissing would be real good way of telling me how you feel, or, you know, other things too, but I'll settle for kisses cause..." he didn't get further before he was caught in a crushing embrace and kissed. Rather thoroughly.

It felt like an eternity, and Stiles didn't want it to end but eventually Derek pulled away and rested his chin on Stiles's shoulder, just holding him close.

"Sorry I ruined your wall," Stiles knew it to be an apology for a whole lot more too but didn't press the matter, words were hard enough for Derek to come by that this was as good as a miracle.

"Hey totally worth it, you can do that anytime if you promise to kiss me like that afterwards," Stiles laughed, all worry and fear from earlier forgotten.

In the end they managed to get the wall cleaned up to something resembling normality. Stiles insisted Derek go and tell the others he was back, he had caused enough anxiety already with his absence and if Stiles had to spend one more night trying to keep Jackson and Scott from killing each other he would go insane and _then _Derek would have problems. With a final kiss and a promise to properly talk about things, soon, Derek was on his way.

Stiles laid down on his bed and for a while just stared at the spot on the wall where the writing had been. So he was more than just a momentary distraction. Derek really _did_ like him and _wanted_ him and wanted to _be_ with him. So ok, he was still technically a virgin at sixteen-and-three-quarters and Scott _definitely_ wasn't which he was just a tiny bit jealous over, but...really, it didn't matter quite so much now. He kinda understood now that Derek's hesitation had not been because he didn't like Stiles or find him attractive, but because he was twenty-three and Stiles only sixteen and that was a line he wasn't ready cross yet.

_Yet._

That one word made all the difference. It meant that Derek wanted Stiles around long enough at least to figure things out, it meant that Stiles was more than just someone to fool around with and that...that was kinda awesome. Stiles was OK with that, though not with writing in blood on walls, he'd have to get Derek a cell phone and teach him how to use it.

_I think I'm in love with him. And I think he's maybe in love with me too. _


End file.
